When a Falcon Dive isn't Just That
by Hope4lLucas
Summary: What happens when a certain F-Zero pilot uses his signature up-grab on Snake a few too many times. Reuploaded due to failures in transition.
1. Chapter 1

So I deleted the first copy of this to make some changes, namely, a section was cut in transition. I reuploaded it to make sure no other parts were missing. This is my first attempt at this kind of fanfiction so I expect all sorts of criticism. Make it constructive if at all possible. Should you enjoy it, let me know as it would warm the depths of my heart. That said: I do not own the rights to Nintendo nor am I making any money off of this fic.

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"It's just, I keep thinking Falcon is dropping subtle hints that he feels for me, Samus," Snake confided over coffee in the break-room at the Smash Mansion.

"Snake, the guy shouts his name before nearly all of his attacks, there is nothing subtle about him," the blond stated rather bluntly, reclining in her chair. "Besides, one of his attacks practically constitutes sexual assault. I honestly doubt he has any problem trying to cover up his libido."

"If you're forgetting, he sets off a miniature explosion during that attack," Snake retorted dryly, "Not something most people would call sexual."

"And if you're forgetting, I was raised by BIRD PEOPLE. What I know about emotions comes from instinct and mine are saying he's got the hots for you."

With that the bounty hunter got up and started to leave. Turning at the door she said, "Hurry up and finish your coffee, the Hands are getting ready to announce the next match for today."

Matches at the Mansion varied, some days there would be dozens of matches while others there would be only one or two. On the slow days it wasn't uncommon for some characters to have grudge matches against their rivals from their respective universes. This was, of course, against the rules of free-play, but nobody seemed to care. Hell, Crazy Hand seemed to encourage it. Placing his mug in the sink, Snake made his way to the view screen to see the latest match up.

No. Fucking. Way.

"SOLID SNAKE versus CAPTAIN FALCON," confirmed Master Hand from his overlord spot high above.

Samus gleefully shoved the momentarily stunned Snake through the teleporter.

Reappearing at Final Destination, he glared at his opponent. "No funny business, got it Falcon?"

The F-Zero pilot grinned beneath his visor,"Whatever do you mean, Snake?"

Sighing loudly, Snake pulled a grenade from his belt and hurled it at the Captain. Picking it up, Falcon simply held it for a few seconds before tossing it back. Snake got out a muffled curse before his own explosive blew up in his face. Shaking the powder from his eyes, he glanced at his damage ration on his watch. Only seven percent. Unfortunately the momentary distraction provided Falcon enough time to dash across the platform and knee him in the chest. Another ten percent.

When Falcon tried another knee kick, Snake punched him in the abdomen and brought up his own knee to push Falcon back.

"Aw, Snake, I almost think you don't want me near you..." Captain Falcon lamented as his own damage ration scrolled past his field of vision. "Falcon Kick!"

The burning boot crashed into Snake who was wntirely set off balance by the other man's comment. With his damage ratio still relatively low the kick didn't push him very far, but enough of those and he'd be KO'd before too long. Whipping out his rocket launcher, Snake fired off a missile and used his miniature computer to direct it toward the Captain.

With a smirk the man simply side-stepped the missile and began walking slowly toward Snake. Grinning himself, Snake turned the explosive around and detonated it at Falcon's back. As the bounty hunter flew toward him, Snake prepared a mortar and launched it as Falcon reached the perfect location. Flying almost to the upper limits of the stage, Captain Falcon activated his shield and fastfell to the ground before sidestepping behind the espionage specialist. Catching ahold of the other man's shoulder, Falcon pulled Snake to his chest. "I'm really starting to think you don't want to be close to me," he whispered. Then punched Snake in the stomach and threw him off the ledge.

Calling in his helicopter, Snake managed to bring himself just above the stage. Big mistake. Falcon lunged upward at him "Falcon Dive!"

Too late to use the shield, Snake felt the other man grab his hips and pull him up close to him. Snake could smell the aftershave Falcon had used that morning and feel the strong thumping of his heart behind his ribcage. 'This really is obscene,' Snake thought before the racer enveoped himself in flames and kicked off toward the stage. As he passed the edge, Snake managed to pull himself back up. Only to be met with a fist,

"Falcon-"

'Oh shi-'

"PUNCH!"

Snake'd damage ratio skyrocketed as he was shot backward almost past the boundaries. The helicopter came to Snake's aid once again and carried him back to safety where he was careful to sidestep the Raptor Dash Falcon threw his way. Hurriedly planting a mine, Snake dashed toward his opponent who merely stood thoughtfully. Once Snake was close enough to throw a punch, Falcon grabbed ahold of him again.

"Can't stay away, huh?" Falcon questioned as he held Snake's arm twisted behind his back, "Not that I mind of course." Captain Falcon pushed Snake back the way he came then elbowed him hard so that he bounced to the edge. With a short skip, Falcon was directly in front of Snake.

"Well?" Snake asked, "My damage percentage is high enough, a fast punch will send me off the map, why not just do it?"

"Because," Falcon responded, "of three things. One, you would just stick me with a bomb and side-step away. Two, the instant you get out of range you're going to detonate the mine I'm almost on top of. Three, this way is much more fun. FALCON KICK"

Before Snake could react, the blazing Captain slammed his foot into the buried explosive and set it off thereby sending them both in the same direction off the platform. Calling in an airlift a third time, Snake brought himself within three feet of the very edge of the levitating floor. He reached futilely then felt himself begin dropping like a stone. 'I guess I lose, oh well it's just a-'

A yelled "Falcon Dive!" broke Snake out of his pessimism as he was once again embraced by the enthusiastic fighter. Just before kicking Snake toward the platform in a fiery explosion, Falcon bent his head in to hide it from the camera and planted a quick peck on Snake's rugged face. Holding his arms out is classic free fall, Falcon allowed himself to fall past the bottom limit as Snake crashed into the ground in stunned silence.

"Captain Falcon, DEFEATED!" came the disembodied announcer's voice.

With a hand on his cheek, Snake walked past the cheering crowd that had gathered to watch his match and tried to catch up with Falcon as he quietly, yet quickly, made his way to his room. Samus caught Snake's arm, "Come on, we need to talk," she said and promptly yanked him away to her room.

"He let me win!" Snake shouted once Samus shut her sound proof door. "That bastard!"

"According to the rotational camera that isn't all he did," she said with a wink and revealed a screen shot of Falcon's lips on Snake's cheek. Samus barked a laugh at Snake's expression both in the frame and directly in front of her.

"Who else saw!" Snake demanded, grabbing the woman by the neck and right forearm and spinning her around into a choke-hold.

"Relax, Snake," said the bountyhunting female, "Just me. I knew smething was up when he ducked out of view so I used my scanner to spin the camera. Now let me go before I damage you."

In the brief moment Snake hesitated, Samus elbowed Snake just below the ribcage, pushed a thumb into the joint of the elbow around her throat, and spun out of the grip.

Letting out a wheeze, Snake glared at her, "I was about to let go!"

"Well, let that be a lesson to you. Don't fuck with me." Samus winked, "I would have thought you'd have learned that the first few times that's happened."

Grumbling, Snake made his way out the door. "Falcon's room is in the east most wing of the Mansion, third door on the left," Samus called after him, sounding far too pleased with herself.

Bristling about Samus' use of unnecessary force on his poor ribs, Snake none the less made his way toward Falcon's room. To find out what the fuck was going on, of course.

After passing several other Brawlers headed to lunch, Snake made his way to Falcon's door and gave a quick knock before barging in. "Okay, what the fuck was that about!"

For a moment there was silence and Snake actually took the time to look around. Falcon was standing in his small kitchen holding Zelda's hands in his own while both were frozen in place staring at Snake. Embarassed and a little angry, Snake turned to leave.

"Wait, don't go," requested Zelda, dashing to catch up to him, "I was just on my way out." Pushing Snake back into the room, Zelda slammed the door behind her, leaving Snake staring at the dark wood.

Coming to his senses, Snake rounded on Falcon, "So first you start giving me all these hints, then you kiss me, and now you're screwing arounds with Zelda? Have you no shame?" Snake marched forward as he ranted, jabbing a finger into Falcon's chest to punctuate his last question.

"Look, I can explain," began Captain Falcon, brushing away the finger.

"Oh you better," Snake interrupted. "What the hell is up with you lately? You keep giving me these subtle inclinations that you like me, but here you are getting touchy with Zelda!"

"I said I was going to explain!" Falcon erupted, pushing Snake into a chair. "Let me." Taking a breath, he said very quickly, "Yes,IlikeyoubutnoI'mnotscrewingwithZeldaitwasallamisunderstanding."

Snake gaped slightly, "What?"

With a small sigh of frustration, Falcon tried again, slower. "I do like you, though there was really nothing subtle about it. If you hadn't noticed, I narrate just about everything I do. In any case, Zelda and I were just talking about our match. Apparently she used the rotational camera to catch a glimpse of, uh, you know..."

Snake rubbed the back of his head, "Samus saw that too."

"Is she okay with this? I mean, I kinda got the feeling you and her were an item, but I didn't see the harm in testing the water..."

"Samus was raised by a race of aliens, her ability to connect with other humans is a bit jaded. But yeah, we're just friends."

"Oh, well that's one obstacle down," said Captain Falon brightly, "but then there's the next one. What, uh, what team do you bat for?"

Snake blushed lightly, "What ever team will have me," he mumbled under his breath.

"Two down, one to go," Falcon stated joyfully, "Would you want to go out with me? Like, a date?"

Blushing harder, Snake ducked his head a bit, "Well, it isn't like we could actually go anywhere to date..."

"You're avoiding the question," Falcon pointed out.

"I, well, oh hell, sure I would."

"Yes!"

"So, want to go get lunch?"

Falcon looked up from his victory pose, "Oh, I could always make something here. I like to cook."

"Uh, sure," Snake said bashfully, "Need any help?"

Raching into the fridge on his left, Captain Falcon dug out two green peppers, a tomato, and a block of cheese. "Omlets sound good to you?" he asked, taking out a carton of eggs. "You can chop the peppers and and tomato while I whip the eggs and grate the cheese."

"Sounds good to me," said Snake, digging into the various drawers until he found a long bladed Chef's knife. In amiable silence the two men performed their respective duties, casting sidelong glances at each other occasionally. Falcon poured the whipped egg and water mixture into a buttered frying pan and let it sizzle for a bit before spreading the grated cheese over the entire surface.

"You done with the peppers and tomato?"

Snake brought the knife down one last time, "Yep, do I just scrape it in?"

Standing behind the spy, Falcon held his knife hand by the wrist and began going through the motion. "What you do," he whispered in Snake's ear while he pressed his chest into Snake's shoulders, "Is gently push small portions evenly across half the omlet until the last few pieces are in."

Grinning broadly into Snake's hair as the other man stood blushing furiously, Falcon put a hand on the man's hip and lightly brushed him aside, "Sorry, I need to fold it over. We wouldn't want it to burn."

Only Captain Falcon could turn making an omlet into something sexual. Still, as the eggs fried Snake's stomach growled. "It'll be done in a minute, go grab some plates. Second cabinet up, closest to the corner. We can sit at the table."

Snake did as he was asked and found some forks just below the plates. Convenient.

Expertly flipping the omlet, Captain Falcon sliced it in two with the spatula and slid one half onto each plate. "Dig in," he exclaimed, following his own advice. The two devoured the meal with gusto, pausing between bites to make small talk. A bit about racing here, some about infiltrating enemy bases there. About three quarters of the way through, Falcon brushed a socked foot against Snake's inner thigh.

The gasp and subsequent blush gave Falcon a mental snapshot he would cherish always.

"Food and sex aren't things I generally mix together, Falcon," Snake hissed.

Falcon smirked and leaned forwad, "Then it sounds like you have been far too vanilla in your endeavors."

Snake choked slightly on the piece of egg he had just put into his mouth before swallowing hard. "Not while we're eating!" He coughed out, pounding himself on the chest. With a final smug leer, Falcon returned to his meal. Once they had both finished, Falcon brought the plates and silverware to the sink where he rinsed them off before putting them in the dishwasher.

"So," Falcon began.

"So," Snake interrupted, "why don't we meet up in the back gardens around seven? I'll bring dinner."

With a smile and a nod Falcon awkwardly led Snake to the door, "I'll uh, see you then..." He stood by the closed door, eyes shifting nervously.

"Don't tell me you're getting coy with me now," Snake exclaimed exasperatedly before leaning up slightly to brush his lips against the man's cheek. His nose bumped gently against the helmet. "Dress nice," Snake teased before drifting out the door.

As Snake made his way through the Mansion he was caught by the arm and dragged quickly into a familiar room. "Dammit, Samus," Snake admonished, "you could try just calling my name and inviting me in."

"Where's the fun in that?" Samus retorted, grinning widely, "So, how long were you two at it? How can you even stand?"

Giving Samus a scandalized look, Snake blushed furiously and quickly responded with, "I agreed to go out with him and we had lunch together, nothing else!"

If anything Samus looked almost disappointed, but recovered fast, "Well, that's nice for both of you. Maybe now he'll stop molesting you during your matches. When are you going out again?"

"Around seven tonight, we're gunna have dinner in the back gardens." Snake actually looked anxious, "Anything in your feminine arsenal that'll tell me what I should wear?"

"Though I'm sure Falcon enjoys the view he gets in your combat attire, lose the head band and run a brush through your hair. Do you even own civilian clothes? And the tux for the tournament ceremonies doesn't count."

"Look, why don't we take this to my room and we can work from there."

Biting down a sexual metaphor, Samus agreed. As it turned out, Snake had a rather large selection of clothes in his wardrobe. Despite being able to completely blend in in nearly any situation, Snake was completely hopeless at choosing a date outfit. Tearing a mismatched pair of pants and a shirt from the man's hands, Samus walked into the closet and began pulling different articles of clothing off the hangars.

"Here, put this shirt on over this one with these pants."

Taking ahold of the aforementioned clothes Snake marched back into the closet and shut the door behind him, eliciting a laugh from Samus.

When Snake reemerged Samus looked him over, had him turn around, and groped him in five or six places before sending him back with a different colored shirt and a belt. The process repeated three times before she was satisfied with short sleeved, shiny blue, button down over a plain white teeshirt tucked into a pair of dark blue jeans with a black belt holding them up.

"Now to pick out your shoes!" Samus declared, sounding far too enthusiastic. "White are way too tacky, plus they don't match. Let's try black dress shoes first. Put on these wing tips."

"Samus, you spend most of your time killing Space Pirates and parasitic monsters. How the hell do you do this?"

"Woman's intuition, put them on."

The first pair was too dressy, the second pair was too casual, the third pair was just right but in the wrong style. Finally Samus settled on a pair of multipurpose sneakers, casual or formal with the right clothes.

"There, painless. Now you look all sexy for your date," Samus remarked, giving Snake a once over while feeling up his chest, ribs, hips, and shoulders before raising an eyebrow. "Wait," she unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled the neck of the teeshirt down to reveal the beginnings of Snake's chest hair. "Now you're sexy."

"Wait," Samus said again, frowning.

"God, Samus, what?"

"Your hair, let me fix it."

"I'm not a damned woman, woman!"

Ignoring the sexism, Samus tore off the headband he wore and began running her fingers through his brown locks. First she tried just ruffling it up, then she tried parting it, after that she pulled his hair back tightly into a pony tail.

"Nah."

Digging through Snake's bathroom drawers, she found a spare brush and had Snake sit on his bed while she tried to figure out how to style it.

"Look, it's just hair, Samus."

"Quiet, you, you asked for my help. Let's see, I think it would look bestjust spreading it out so the bangs are slightly parted and the back hangs down in spikes. Helps it look less... Mullet-y."

"What's wrong with mullets?"

Rather than answer, Samus pulled a disgusted face before running the brush through his hair in fast strokes.

"Perfect."

Looking into his bedroom mirror, Snake had to admit that he looked prety nice.

"Uh, thanks Samus. So why'd you agree to help me?"

"Isn't that what friends are for?"

"You're a bounty hunter, yet you didn't even ask for some type of repayment."

"Can't a girl help her guy-friend look nice?"

Snake gave her a skeptical look.

"Alright, Zelda and I have a bet running. I say you two do it the first date. Zelda says the second."

Snake honestly had no answer ready. Instead he kicked her out of his room, her laughing the entire time.

Women.


	2. Chapter 2

For the next five hours, Snake entertained himself by changing into his workout clothes and practicing his martial arts. There had to be a way to get out of all of Falcon's crazy grabs. It would have been nicer to practice with a partner, but Snake still wasn't sure if he could look at Samus without throwing a punch her way. Which would inevitably lead to him being bruised for his date and that just wouldn't do.

Around five thirty Snake took a shower and styled his hair the way Samus had instructed. There was still the issue of dinner. What could he make? Just as he was about to set the stovetop aflame, Samus barged in with a bag that smelled surprisingly delicious.

"I feel bad for making that bet so I made you a meal for your date," Samus announced, setting the bag down on the counter. "Guilt paired with the fact that you don't know a pot from a kettle led me to fix up something edible."

"You know, as much as you refute the female stereotype, you continue to prove a lot of them correct," Snake observed. A punch to the bicep made him regret speaking up. Almost.

"Dammit, that better not bruise. And give me some credit here: you can cook, you like shoes, you enjoy styling hair, and have impeccable fashion on the civilian scene."

Looking thoughtful for a moment, Samus then punched him in the other arm, "For being right," she clarified.

Kicking her out yet again, though not until after she fixed his hair, Snake got the food and drinks prepared in a basket and brought along a throw blanket to sit on. At six thirty Snake showed up at the gardens and set up the meal. Small solar charging lights lit the area enough to see, but they would get dimmer as the night progressed until the sun rose to charge them back up.

From the wicker basket Snake pulled out a tray of fried chicken and a bowl of potato salad. To drink he had brought a six pack of beer and a case of soda. At the very bottom of the basket was a container holding a few cookies with an attached note: 'bring this up at your own risk.' Snake smiled and considered how he could go about using Samus' baking prowess to his advantage without having to hurt her or avoid being hurt.

Seven o'clock, on the dot, Captain Falcon showed up, walking down the garden path surprisingly lightly. He was wearing a red short-sleeve shirt that fit snug around his figure. The collar of a white button-down folded over the top while the tails stuck out along the bottom, flaring slightly with how tight the shirt was. He wore a pair of black slacks, black shoes and matching socks. He also wore a ring, onyx with a gold leaf falcon insignia embedded in it, on his right hand.

Most striking of all was the missing helmet. Snake tried not to stare, but her was handsom under the bulky head gear. Bold nose, brown hair and eyes, square jaw now fully defined, and a scar prominent along his left eyebrow.

Snake gestured for the man to sit down next to him, placing the basket between them. "So you left the helmet in your room, huh?" Snake inquired, flipping open the lid to the basket, delicious aroma steaming out.

Captain Falcon laughed softly, "Yeah, I had actually almost forgotten I was wearing it when you came over earlier. I would have taken it off, but I was still kind of reeling."

Snake smiled, nodding as he pulled out a leg of chicken. There was surprisingly little grease for a fried food, he would have to inoffensively compliment Samus later.

Captain Falcon helped himself to one of the beers, popping the tab with his thumb nail. It was somehow cold despite the proximity to the hot chicken. He pulled out a leg for himself, pulling a strip away with his teeth, trying hard not to smear it across his lips.

The two ate quietly, both trying to make as little noise and mess as possible. The bone pile grew higher and their bellies fuller. Each had had a few of the beers, turning to the cola to stay at a pleasant buzz. Snake tossed the last bone onto the kerchief, wrapping them up and putting them inside the basket. He rooted around and found that Samus had indeed packed another pair of handkerchiefs. Snake passed one of them to Captain Falcon, wiping his hands and face with the other.

"So who can I have you pass my compliments on to?" Captain Falcon asked with a smile, folding the cloth and slipping in into his pocket.

"And how do you know I didn't make it?"

"Just a feeling. Was it Samus?"

"... Yes."

The Captain laughed loudly, leaning backward with his hands for support. It felt good to be able to relax, Snake had to admit as he watched the other man control himself. He blamed part of it on the alcohol, but the rest on the company. He had had casual sex before, but the dating scene was rather new.

"Interested in desert?" Snake asked innocently. The Captain's reaction was both amusing and adorable. He stuttered slightly and a light pink blush dusted across his high cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

"Samus bakes, too," Snake explained, smirking as he tilted the basket for Captain Falcon to see the large cookies inside it.

"Ooh," Falcon marveled, reaching for it. Snake, in uncharacteristic playfullness, pulled the basket away and held it in his left hand, dangling beyond Captain Falcon's reach. Rather than sprawl across the man's lap to get at them, Captain Falcon grabbed Snake by the hip and below the ribs and with a slight grunt hauled the man into his lap. With his longer reach, Captain Falcon just pulled the basket from Snake's loose grip and tried to stick his hand into it.

Snake smacked his hand away, reaching in himself to pull out one of the cookies. Sticking it over his shoulder, he heard the other man bite down on it and let it go. Captain Falcon kept one arm slung loosely over Snake's lap with Snake sprawled haphazardly in his own as he took the remainder of the cookie in the unoccupied hand.

"They're good," he commented after swallowing hastily. He finished it quickly before grabbing his still full can and draining it. "Really good. Where'd a girl like that learn to bake?"

Snake had retrieved his own dessert, chewing it slowly to avoid getting crumbs in his facial hair. "Dunno," he answered after clearing his mouth. "Space?"

"You're trying to figure out how to exploit this," Captain Falcon stated.

Snake gave a noncommittal grunt and brushed off his fingers onto the grass off the side of the blanket. Snake rested a hand lazily over the top of Falcon's resting on his thigh. He let his head fall back slightly onto the broad shoulder there and ready to support him.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Snake asked, breathing in the night air and the aftershave Falcon had used earlier. "Weird how we can just act normal here?"

Snake had expected a chuckle, or some reaction at all, but when he turned his head he saw only the profile of a face lost in thought. "It was a question, Captain Pensive, what do you think about it?"

The pilot blinked and glanced at the other man before heaving a sigh. He put his chin on the combed hair and tightened his grip around Snake. "I wouldn't call it weird, persay," he started, "It is nice though. I like being able to just hang out and work out with no fear of being taken by surprise by some Blood Falcon clones or need to retreat to some island alone due to some threats. I like it."

"The Hands never explained what this is," Snake considered, "I can sometimes feel myself, like I'm in two places at once. One part of me is somewhere in Russia, stopping a rebellion or whatever it is I would normally doing, but then I am also here." Snake wriggled a bit into a more comfortable position, "Otacon talked at me about things like parallel dimensions, how somewhere there is a timeline where everything is the same apart from a single event. I get the feeling I should have listened better."

Falcon hummed deep in his chest, Snake could feel the rumbling through his body and the movement of the other man's jaw as he took in Snake's insight. "The way I see it, if we're really just replicas of ourselves taken in to be part of this World of Tournaments, we should enjoy ourselves based on the possibility that isn't the case and we could be forced back into our old lives."

"That... actually sounds pretty reasonable."

"I'm bold, not dense."

Snake snorted, though he made no comment either way. The night air held just a hint of a chill in it, a taste of the Autumn on its way. Neither man shivered, but Falcon did pull Snake closer to him. Snake made no objection.

"You think we should head back inside?" Falcon asked, though he had no sense of urgency in his voice.

"In a bit," Snake said lethargically. It was a dangerous thing to be content, Snake knew, since it could all go to hell when you least expect it, but this really was quite nice. "So, Captain?""

"Douglas," Falcon corrected, "Douglas J Falcon. Or Doug, or even Falcon."

"David or Dave then. Or keep calling me Snake. Most do and I'm used to it."

"Snake it is then."

"No problem, Falcon," Snake smirked as he laid his head back even further on that solid shoulder, causing Captain Falcon to place his chin on Snake's shoulder. "Should we go inside yet?"

"In a bit," Captain Falcon responded.

The garden lights grew dimmer as the two sat in the garden, tentatively accepting the contentment that came with being together. Maybe, each thought, contentment could be okay.


End file.
